


Saint Of Shitty Reasons

by kingwellsjaha



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: (in the worst way), (shout out to Eadith and Ealhswith for not taking these guys' bullshit), Alternate Universe - College/University, Because there are a few, Eardwulf is a disaster fail cringe saxon, M/M, Misuse of Saint Sebastian for sexy reasons, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Warnings in the notes, an absolute disaster of a human being, and somehow i find that neat, filed under: i wrote this for me but i am willing to share
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingwellsjaha/pseuds/kingwellsjaha
Summary: Ironically Eardwulf’s life has more in common with the life of a Saint than one might think.Or Modern!Eardwulf’s fail life at university.
Relationships: Aethelred/Eardwulf (Background), Eardwulf (The Last Kingdom)/Edward the Elder
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Saint Of Shitty Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> the ancient writer’s proverb echoes through the air: “this was not meant to be this long what the fuck.” but i just feel like i needed to get this one out of my system. eardwulf is just the type of cringe fail saxon that i need to write about. fair warning: this is super self indulgent and probably only enjoyable for me alone.
> 
> actual warnings: uncomfortable sexual situations, abuse of a sex worker but she gets her revenge, some anti sex worker sentiment, a little bit of homophobia and repression, mentions of child neglect, alcohol abuse, suicide mention, drug use, sort of description of a rape fantasy (but mild so mild I had trouble tagging it properly)

Edward’s mother, the great revered Dutchess Aelswith of Wessex, had gifted her son the life size painting of an almost naked man bound to a tree covered in arrows. Proudly it hung above his bed. It was Saint Sebastian, Edward had explained Eardwulf the first time he had come by, specifically Peter Paul Rubens’s rendition of St. Sebastian. Rubens was a most renowned Flemish artist of the Flemish Baroque movement, known for his colours and sensuality. Edward could go on for hours like this. He seemed to know everything about Rubens and Saint Sebastian.

Now Eardwulf knew little about religion or art in general. He just found it funny that whenever he took Edward from behind, his eyes involuntarily starred at Saint Sebastian’s naked pierced torso. Edward’s mother sounded like a strict Anglican woman, the type of mother you had to keep too many secrets from. She didn’t know how well her son could beg for more, spread his legs on this very bed and look up to Eardwulf in a silent plea, but she had given him quite the fitting backdrop for the occasion.

* * *

They always met at night and always in Edward’s room. There were two reasons for that. First it seemed that Edward was not comfortable with people knowing that he fancied men. If that was because of his mother specifically or the society in general, Eardwulf could not tell. It didn’t matter much to him anyway because, second, if Aethelred found out about them, Eardwulf would have fallen out of his good graces, which meant the loss of a lot of privileges and his residence in Aethelred’s house and Eardwulf liked the comfort of his 30qm room, the takeout that Aethelred always ordered and the whirlpool. So instead Eardwulf lingered in front of Edward’s luxury apartment building, like he was sixteen again and Edward his deeply closeted rugby teammate in highschool. At least unlike his rugby teammate, Edward seemed genuinely glad to see him. Even when he looked tired, a smile crept onto his face as soon as he saw him. Eardwulf noted it with satisfaction. His influence on Edward was growing, which meant that at some point he would not be as dependent on Aethelred anymore.

Not that he wanted to be totally dependent on Edward either. The plan was to not be dependent on anyone at all. He just needed to finish his study, make the right friends and rise in the ranks. Everything to at some point gain back his family’s company. That was the goal since he had been ten and his father had committed suicide over accounting fraud. He still remembered his shaking mother by the grave. She had drunk to calm her nerves. Her hands held onto both her children, Eardwulf on one side, Eadith on the other. From that moment onward their lives only ever had one focus and it had only intensified when they had entered university. Eardwulf had immediately noticed that Aethelred was both powerful and naively gullible. All this guy wanted was someone to nod along. And so he quickly became his left hand man and positioned his sister to the right side.

It worked out well most of the time. Being dependent on anyone was never ideal, but they made it work.

Eadith had made the decision not to give herself to Aethelred easily. Eardwulf still wasn’t too sure if that was the right way to go about it, but she wouldn’t listen. Until now all it had done was make Aethelred very wound up and angry, but also somewhat more pliable to her words. He was still trying to impress her.

The opposite was true for him and Eardwulf. Although Eardwulf had the feeling that Aethelred trying to impress him would have turned into a fight regardless. Their entire relationship seemed to be dominated by Aethelred’s need to come out on top, which was why Aethelred had at least once or twice taken Eardwulf’s hand and forced it down his pants. It usually happened in semi public places, never at home, never in Aethelred’s bedroom. In general Aethelred wasn’t a very physical person, even when he took Eardwulf’s hand and pushed it down his pants. It was a rather cold and quick affair. Eardwulf wasn’t even sure if it was that satisfying for Aethelred, it felt like he only did it to prove a point.

Funny enough it was also the least deemining task Eardwulf had to perform for him. Giving quick handjobs in semi public places had been part of his highschool career, being forced to get a waitress fired because she had not been kind enough to Aethelred, not so much. He, of course, did it and quite efficiently, no question asked, but the process felt somewhat more humiliating.

Still most of it had been doable. Eardwulf had no idea how bad Aethelred really could get until he came back home one day to find him in his golden silk robe pacing up and down the floor. He looked agitated and angry. As soon as he saw Eardwulf he latched onto him, pushing a few hundred pound bills into his head. Without any further explanation he pointed at his bedroom door. “Deal with it.”

His words did not leave any place for questions. Eardwulf had noted early on that Aethelred despised them, seeing them as an attack on his authority. This usually worked fine for Eardwulf, who early in life had learnt to work around people and their demands. So not thinking much of it, he entered Aethelred’s bedroom.

When he later thought about it, it should’ve been more obvious what awaited him behind the door, but Eardwulf was genuinely surprised when he saw a woman sitting on the armchair looking at him with a scowl. She wore a dark revealing sequin dress and matching dark eye shadow. There was something artificial about her look, every bit seemed fabricated to fulfill a certain kind of fantasy. She crossed her arms and crooked her neck.

“Has the humble lord finally decided to pay what he owes me?”

Eardwulf looked at her stunned. He had just noticed the red marks on her neck and arms. Blood had dried on her skin.

With a sigh the woman got up and took the money from him, up close Eardwulf could smell the makeup powder and Aethelred’s cologne. He took a step back and watched as she started to count. She had long acrylic fingernails in red, a few had been broken off.

She counted quickly and looked up. “Hm,” she finally said and put the money into a small bag.

“Is it not enough?” He replied.

“It’s more than he wanted to give me initially,” she answered curtly. Her eyes shot to him again. She stepped closer. With her high heels, she was about Eardwulf’s height. Whatever sort of intimidation this was supposed to be, it wasn’t working. All Eardwulf wanted was to escape the smell of makeup, he withstood it though and looked directly into her dark eyes–without the makeup she would’ve been somewhat decent looking, he thought.

“There is a negotiation phase where the client can voice his wishes. He cannot just tread on me when he wants to and think he can get away with it.”

Her posture was impressive, but lost on him. He narrowed his eyes. “And?”

An ugly laugh left her mouth. She shook her head. “If he thinks he can ever request my services or the services of any other woman in this town again, he is mistaken.” She lingered close for one more moment. Aethelred had been smart in letting Eardwulf handle this. Her posture would have probably scared him and provoked him further. She turned away. “Tell this to your friend.” She stated and left. The sound of her heels echoed through the house.

Eardwulf looked around the room, noted the messy bed and the used condoms. The air lay heavy, all used up and sweaty. With a sigh he went to the window and opened it, letting the cold air in.

* * *

Of course, Eardwulf did not tell Aethelred that he had been shunned by every call girl in the city, he didn’t have a dead wish. He considered telling Eadith, but felt that it might divert her from their plans and therefore didn’t. Like usual he kept quiet and pretended it didn’t happen. That seemed to be what Aethelred preferred himself. He didn’t like to acknowledge that he was just as dependent on Eardwulf as Eardwulf was dependent on him. Aethelred wanted to feel in power. He wanted to trample on people.

Edward was the total opposite of that, he yearned for someone to lean on. Quickly their relationship resembled more a friendship, if you ignored the part where Edward hastily took off Eardwulf's clothes and pressed his body against his–although Eardwulf had had a few friendships quite like this–and the part where Eardwulf woke up in the night to find Edward wrapped around him, softly breathing against his neck–which was unlike any relationship, friendship or not, that Eardwulf ever had had–but other than that they mostly just spent time talking. There was so much that Edward needed to talk about. Most of the time he vented out his grievances.

“She is trying to set me up with this girl whose father conveniently owns lands close by,” Edward complained at one point about his mother, as they lay in bed. Eardwulf had to swallow a slight remark on how privileged Edward sounded. Had he been Edward, he wouldn’t have complained, but Edward clearly needed sympathy here. So instead he said: “And what will you do about that?”

Edward shrugged his shoulders. “I will go out with her, I guess.”

Now Eardwulf really had to hold in his laughter. What a spoiled little boy, he thought, but kept his expression thoughtful, focusing in on Edward, who was still looking up to the ceiling.

In profile the curve of his nose became more prominent. It gave his soft feature some definition. For some unknown reason the urge to kiss it, overcame Eardwulf then and he had to turn away. Edward too deep in thought luckily did not notice. He furrowed his brows and looked like a very serious little boy. “She has always mingled in my affairs. Did I tell you how she destroyed the relationship with my first girlfriend?”

Eardwulf shook his head. Edward sighed. “She wasn’t right for me because she worked in a pub instead of partaking in high society. So my mother forced me to go to summer school and then made me switch my school afterwards,” his face grew dark at that, “not that it mattered really, she was only my first girlfriend after all. I was sixteen, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” He grew visibly more upset. It sounded like it mattered deeply.

“Am I your first?” Eardwulf asked, not sure what exactly had prompted this question, but he suddenly was very curious. Of course, technically he knew the answer, given how awkward Edward had been the first times around. And even if there had been other guys and fumbling in the dark, he had been the first where it truly mattered. It still felt good when Edward confirmed it with a nod. Eardwulf had to fight not to grin.

“Mom would kill me, if she knew about this,” he stated. Eardwulf laughed. He had the urge to smoke a cigarette, but Edward did not allow smoking inside his apartment. He in general didn’t do well with smoke always coughing as soon as there was a hint of smoke in the air. It was a pity, he would have looked pretty with a cigarette in his mouth. “I take it back, I think she would rather kill you.”

“She is not the first, who would have tried,” Eardwulf stated with a grin. This was only technically true, there had been a time when Eardwulf had to hide in a closet, but it had been more the fear of his partner than the parent in question. Edward did not smile. He grew even more serious.

“She has to put her hands into every part of my life,” he said darkly, “even when I’m at university, she has to control me from afar.”

“That’s how mothers are,” Eardwulf replied and didn’t mean it. He had just meant to lighten the mood. How could someone be this wound up after sex? Eardwulf got the feeling that he wasn’t doing his job right. Edward turned to him with a dead serious expression that made Eardwulf’s smile falter.

“Is your mother like that?” He asked. His voice was low and sharp. There was something commanding in his tone that Eardwulf couldn’t escape from. Lying usually came easy to him, one of his teachers had called him a natural born liar, but something compelled him to tell the truth or at least part of it.

“Not like yours,” he admitted, “she is more fragile,” and weak-willed, “so she holds onto me for support,” because she kept on drinking, since the day his father had died she drank, he could not remember a day that she had not been drinking, whenever he smelled sherry he had to think of her, “so it’s different I guess, she is not that actively controlling,” if he was honest he wished she would have cared more, instead of him and Eadith caring for her, “but it is all encompassing all the same.”

When he had finished, the image of his mother sitting on the kitchen counter with the bottle of sherry to the right and the off-hand prescription drugs to the left was all he could think of. He still remembered Eadith’s faint gasp and him growing very cold and focused. She had called him a few days ago, but he had not answered. He should have, he knew better than to leave her on her own for too long, but he was already doing so much. In fact all he did was for her, for Eadith, for the family, so that someday they could be proud again, that they could dare to be somebody. He had it all already planned out. One day when the firm was in their control, he would find a nice girl, someone he was certain his mother would like, and marry her and then have a bunch of children for his mother to fuss over.

One day. When everything was okay again.

A touch on his cheek made him flinch. When he looked to Edward, he was startled by how genuinely concerned he seemed. Internally he cursed himself for being so stupid to reveal something this private about himself, but on the outside he feigned a smile like he always did in situations like this and tried to look confident and strong. It had worked with most teachers, but not with Edward, who pulled him closer. Gently he took Eardwulf’s face in hand and when they kissed, the softness made Eardwulf choke. No one had ever touched him like this and he didn’t know what it was supposed to mean. It scared him. His heart started to beat faster.

And like always when something happened that felt scary, he closed his eyes and ignored it.

* * *

The softness of that moment clung to Eardwulf for the next couple of days and he needed it because he was about to face a big storm.

Like with most things, Eardwulf should have noticed the warning signs early on. Eadith had grown more hesitant and quiet in the last couple of weeks. They had fought more, but he had been so caught up in handling both Edward and Aethelred that he didn’t notice until it was too late.

So it hit him unexpectedly one Friday afternoon. Eadith had invited him to a café, Eardwulf had thought then that her reason had been to discuss plans, but instead after they had received their orders, she grew very serious.

“I will break up with Aethelred,” she explained calmly.

Eardwulf had been too busy pouring sugar into his coffee to notice how serious she was. His mind had been elsewhere. “I don’t know if that is such a good strategy. I have to admit not giving him what he wants has worked out fine, but that might be a step too far.”

Eadith’s hand moved forward and gently touched his. He looked up into her light eyes. In his opinion she had inherited the best of their parents: father’s smart eyes and mother’s soft features, unlike Eardwulf who had inherited the weak chin of their mother and their father’s bushy eyebrows. He wasn’t jealous. It was better that way around. Women had to be more beautiful to achieve things in life. He could live with mediocrity.

“This is not a strategy, I am serious.” He should have gotten it then, but her words just didn’t make much sense to him. They had always worked towards this goal together. There had always been strategies. The idea that there were none, was not only confusing it just didn’t fit his world view.

Eadith sighed and moved her hand away. “I will break up with Aethelred and move in with a friend for the time being and figure out my life.”

He furrowed his brows barely catching on. “Figure out your life? What is there to figure out?” It made even less sense to him, when he spoke the words out loud. “We have a plan. We just need to follow it. There is not much to figure out.”

If he wasn’t mistaken Eadith started to look disappointed at that. Her hands moved over her cup, awkwardly searching for something to hold onto. It hit Eardwulf then. He opened his mouth to say something, but words escaped him. His brain could simply not accept what was happening.

“We need to let go,” she finally said, “this is hurting us more than it does us any good.”

Eardwulf shook his head. “What are you saying? What is going on? We are so close, just a few more years and we are finally free.”

“A few more years, do you hear yourself? A few more years is everything. We are wasting our youth for this. We are wasting our days. I cannot remember the last day I was truly happy. Can you?”

“Yes,” he said immediately because he could, “the weekend when father took us out to the lake, right before…” he broke it off. He still remembered the sun on his face. The colours of the grass were so vibrant in his memory. Some changes in life happened gradually, but the death of his father had been a clear cut, a true before and after. Whatever innocence Eardwulf had had, it had left, just as the vibrant colours. He had seen the world for what it was, imperfect, horrible and senseless.

“Eardwulf, it doesn’t have to be that way. We still can be happy, I promise you,” Eadith was shaking now. “Trust me. You just don’t see how this is hurting you, hurting us. Dad died fourteen years ago. We don’t have to fix what he has broken. We can live our own lives and they can be beautiful.”

She leaned forward and tried to grab Eardwulf’s hand again. Knowing what she was trying to do, he moved away. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His entire body had gotten cold. It was like when they had found mother, but somehow infinitely worse because he was now all alone. Without Eadith only the stale smell of sherry was what was left from home.

Eadith pressed her lips together. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I can no longer do it. There is just so much more to life than this and I hope someday you see that too,” her words almost seemed rehearsed now, as if she had said them to herself over and over last night and maybe she had, “but I cannot wait for you. You have to realize it yourself.”

She got up from her chair and put on her coat. Eardwulf watched her calm movement. The whole situation felt weirdly ordinary, but then his whole life had felt weirdly ordinary. Of course there had been dramatic scenes here and there, chases through the streets, fights in the school cafeteria, but the important bits, the bits that had truly hit him, had always been quiet and plainly ordinary in the way they played out.

Eadith put her bag over her shoulder and looked at Eardwulf. It felt like she was waiting for him to say something, but he was at a loss for words.

“See you around,” she finally said, her voice shaking, “I hope I see you soon.” And with that she left, her ordered tea cup still full. Eardwulf stared at it as he tried to understand what had just happened. He felt weirdly cold and focused. Instead of feeling anything his body concentrated on his surroundings: the constant chatting on the table next to him was suddenly loud and he could hear the old ladies at the table behind him talking on and on about their grandchildren or dogs, he could not say. The smell of coffee and smoked cigarettes was in the air. The guy with the wary expression who kept on writing into a small notebook surely was a chain smoker. All these information clashed onto him. His hands started to shake and he could feel his breathing slowly growing rigid although he still felt calm inside.

His first urge was to ask the chain smoker for a cigarette, but he followed his second urge instead. Before he could think, he had picked up his phone and shot Edward a message.

* * *

There was no time for polite greetings. As soon as Edward closed the door, Eardwulf pushed him against the wall and kissed him. Lucky for him Edward didn’t object, pulled him close and grinded against him.

Eardwulf felt like his body had taken over. His hands moved on their own accord, they ripped at Edward’s shirt, moved over his upper body soaking in the warmth.

When he pushed Edward onto the bed, they were already naked, but it still took time to prepare Edward. Eardwulf was almost too impatient this time around, but became more pliable when Edward started to spread kisses across his stomach moving further down. He had gotten better at this in the two months of their relationship and for a moment Eardwulf considered coming just like this, but finally he pushed Edward off. He needed something else.

Hungry he pushed Edward onto his knees and positioned himself between his legs. When he entered he felt instant relief. The entire world shrunk to the size of Edward’s bedroom. There was nothing else there, nothing more to worry about. He started to move quickly, needing the friction. His eyes landed on the painting, the white loin cloth. His eyes focused on the soft curves sneakily hidden behind the linen. It made him laugh. 

He grabbed Edward’s hair and pulled his head up. Edward hissed. “You know every time I come by, I have to look at your naked saint, and I do wonder do you think Rubens wanted to fuck Saint Sebastian?”

Edward let out a noise between a choke and chuckle. Eardwulf pulled his hair a little harder. In any other case he probably would have stopped himself, but there was no room for second thoughts. It felt like he was in a tunnel moving towards a white light. “I would have. Who could’ve withstood such a perfect picture of innocence?”

He let go of Edward’s hair and instead pressed his body against his. This close he could feel Edward’s quick heart beat, feel the sweat on his skin. Eardwulf’s hand moved over Edward’s stomach between his legs. Edward gasped immediately as Eardwulf started to pump. Doing so while continuing to move behind him was awkward, but Eardwulf still continued in a harsh tempo, pressing his lips against Edward’s ear. “They stripped him anyway and tied him to the tree. He must have looked so beautiful and pure, with skin that dared to be grabbed, dared to be pierced.”

He accentuated the last word with the sharp movement of his hip, not questioning where this was going, just walking towards the light. In front of his inner eye, he imagined Edward bound to the tree naked. He made a great saint with his soft innocent face and soft hair. With big eyes he looked up, uncertain what would happen, but willing to go through with it anyway for his beliefs, his God. Eardwulf on the other hand was sullied, godless, evil.

“You think God would have let him enter heaven pierced like this?” His voice was almost muffled against Edward’s skin. His breathing had gotten rigid. “Pierced and defiled, you think he would have taken his saint like that?”

Just as he had finished the sentence Edward gasped and came in Eardwulf’s hand. Eardwulf followed right after. He collapsed onto Edward’s shoulder, his head blissfully empty and heart beating fast. They lay like this for a moment breathing heavily.

Slowly Eardwulf rolled over, lying on his side, still not thinking much of anything. The sweat was slowly drying on his skin, making him shiver. His eyes moved to Edward still with his head pressed against the mattress, looking like the Saint on the wall. Eardwulf smirked feeling like an artist himself–and hadn’t he painted Edward well?

Finally Edward rose to face him. His royal countenance was perfectly neutral, only his red ears and cheeks gave him away. They looked at each other in a comically serious way, Eardwulf couldn’t help but grin by the end.

“Just so you know,” Edward stated, his voice only slightly shaking, “Saint Sebastian did not die when the Roman soldiers shot arrows at him.”

He knew he had forgotten part of the story. To his defense, he had been a bit drunk when Edward had explained the importance of the painting to him. “No?”

“He survived and was taken in. That’s the miracle God granted him. He died later, when confronting the emperor, who ordered his guards to bludgeon him to death.”

“I see,” Eardwulf nodded thinking about it, “now that’s not really a sexy scenario,” (unless you were Aethelred maybe). Edward immediately turned bright pink. His mouth twitched.

“No,” he finally said, clearly fighting for control Eardwulf couldn’t say if it was over disgust or amusement, “it is not.”

The sentence lay heavy between them. It seemed like Edward wanted to say more. He was chewing on his lips. Eardwulf raised his eyebrows in anticipation, but then Edward just turned towards the blanket, covered in his release.

“I will go take a shower,” he said matter-of-factly and got up from bed.

Eardwulf stifled his laughter as Edward hurried out of the room. He laughed louder when he was gone. It wasn’t even that funny really, but it was better to laugh than to think. He would have to deal with Eadith’s departure and Aethelred’s wrath sooner or later, but not today and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Of course, it all came back, but not in a way that he had expected. Aethelred was more than disgruntled when it came to Eadith dumping him and Eardwulf had to bear the brunt. It didn’t affect him as much as Eadith’s absence. There was a certain hollowness that he could not escape, so in a sense he was almost thankful for Aethelred’s rough treatment. At least it posed some sort of distraction, but it also seemed that Eardwulf’s humiliation could not satisfy for long Aethelred. Soon he got bored of forcing Eardwulf to give him a handjob and Eardwulf got the bad feeling that Aethelred would try and get a call girl soon to do whatever he needed to do to feel like a man again. He still had not talked to him about what the call girl had said and still didn’t plan on doing so. Numb he awaited the crash that would occur uncertain from which side it would hit him first.

And then it happened, but again not in the way that Eardwulf had expected. The new semester had just started and with that new courses. Eardwulf and Aethelred took all of them together, so that Eardwulf could do Aethelred’s work. Now that they had passed the introduction stage in economy. They were finally able to move onto the more specific classes. Eardwulf didn’t really allow himself to have an opinion on them, otherwise he would get disappointed by Aethelred’s choices, but this time the course Aethelred had chosen promised to be interesting–and challenging in a way that Eardwulf wasn’t sure he was prepared for, though he kept that thought far away from Eardwulf.

And indeed the lecturer, a tall massive guy who looked like he hung out at the gym all day, made it very clear that there would be no slacking in his class. He was just talking about punctuality, when another student entered the room.

It was a woman, maybe a year younger than Eardwulf. The lecturer gave her a cold remark that would have made every other student in class shrink away. The woman, however, was not impressed. She raised her eyebrows–and that was the first moment that Eardwulf wondered if he had met her before, right after his eyes fell onto her blue acrylic fingernails.

It was when she replied with a courteous yet smart remark that Eardwulf realized who the woman was and given the way Aethelred froze next to him, it seemed that Aethelred did too.

The call girl that introduced herself by the name of Ealhswith withstood the instructor’s cold remarks. She sat down in the front row and took out a notebook.

Throughout the rest of the session Eardwulf could not help, but look at her, anticipating the crash any minute. It came when the oral presentations were given out. Eardwulf could see her back freeze when Aethelred’s name was called out and then slowly she turned and they came face to face. There was a slight smile on her face. Next to him Aethelred cursed under his breath.

When the session ended, he didn’t need to tell Eardwulf what to do, he simply gave him a pointed look and left the room. Resigning himself to his fate Eardwuld breathed in and out and gathered his things. Ealhswith was still in the room talking to the lecturer.

He had softened down on her remarkably and even chortled at one of her remarks. When he finally sent her off, Eardwulf followed.

Ealhswith did not stop as he came up next to her, but she noticed him. Eardwulf waited for a moment, watching her again. Without the makeup she looked more human, more like an actual person. When she continued to remain silent, he started.

“You cannot stay in the course.”

Ealhswith sniggered. “Oh really? What does Aethelred think he can do? I know things about him that he doesn’t want to get out.”

“The course is not obligatory,” Eardwulf pointed out.

“And? Steapa is a good lecturer, I will not miss out because of one rich fuck boy.”

They had entered an empty side hall. Quickly Eardwulf stepped closer.

“Ealhswith,” he said, hoping she would catch the danger in his voice. He might not look like it, but he was capable of hurting people. He had done it quite frequently in highschool with the classmates that had not been important enough in the hierarchy to be spared. He knew how to dislocate someone’s shoulder. It didn’t take as much effort as everyone thought it did.

It seemed that Ealhswith caught his drift. She stopped and turned to him fully. Her eyes moved over his body. Her hands subconsciously moved towards her sides. Eardwulf watched both of them closely. She surely was the type to carry a knife with her. There was something tough about her posture. This one knew how to fight. There was no doubt about it, but Eardwulf was certain that he could handle her. He dared to relax and smile.

“You don’t want to be on Aethelred’s bad side.”

She laughed at that, but her hands remained by her sides. “It doesn’t seem much worse than his good side, from my perspective, but I think you know that already.”

She probably only meant to comment on his complicitness, but Eardwulf immediately thought of Eadith’s bitter words and Aethelred’s tight grip around his hand. Her smile grew wider as his self assurance dropped. She crossed her arms again moving away from the knives.

“You see, this is a standoff, he has some dirt on me, I have more than enough dirt on him. All he needs to do is pretend that he doesn’t know me when I annihilate him class and everything will be fine.”

“He won’t like this.”

Ealhswith’s laugh was more of a bark. “That’s not my problem.”

* * *

And she was right, it was absolutely not. It was his. Especially when Aethelred’s fist hit him right against his chin.

Eardwulf had rarely seen him this angry, usually he resorted to destroying things, but the defiance of the call girl had triggered his inferiority complex and now without anyone else close by Eardwulf had to pay the price. As Aethelred hit him again, making Eardwulf plummet to the surely expensive carpeted floor of Aethelred’s house, he wondered if Eadith ever had to witness this, but she had probably been smarter than him and avoided Aethelred in these types of situations, at least he hoped so (but a small part of his brain reminded him that she might not have been able to escape Aethelred’s wrath and an even smaller part somehow managed to feel partially conflicted about it).

Aethelred continued to stump on him as he lay on the ground. Of course Eardwulf would have been able to defend himself, but he also had learnt that it was sometimes better to take it. He couldn’t risk humiliating Aethelred further and so he just became his doormat, only moving to protect his stomach and chest.

At some point Aethelred got tired or straight up bored, one last kick and then he abruptly left. Eardwulf could hear him slam the door and then the world was nothing more but the light from the chandelier and the dull pain that seemed to come from everywhere.

He waited a few moments–maybe it took him longer, everything was so goddamn blurry–then he got up. His first instinct was to walk to his room, but he stopped himself two steps along the way. Hesitantly he looked at the gilded door knob and then without thinking much simply following his gut feeling, he left the dorm.

Outside his hand automatically went to his phone and before he could stop himself, he was calling Eadith. He didn’t even know what he would say. There was no room for words in his head. It was just the image of a shitty kitchen counter, which always smelled like sherry, him coming home to see her baking brownies. She turned to him with a smile. Eardwulf had hated the flat, the cheap look of it, but right now he wanted nothing more than to go back to it: The place, the time, this feeling of home. And that was why he pressed the phone against his ear, waiting for her to pick up. Even though she would be angry and dismissive. Maybe she would even gloat at him, scoff at his pain. _This is what you deserve, you pathetic excuse for a brother_. But even that seemed fine for a moment. All he needed was to hear her voice just once, surely everything would be fine afterwards.

And he did, in the form of her overt-friendly mailbox announcement. Eardwulf listened to it fully, reveled in her bubbly laughter at the end, but when the loud beep announced the start of the recording he still felt hollow. The world was still confusing and dark. 

Not knowing what to say he hung up and turned around towards the house. Aethelred lived on the better side of town, with less cars. It was very silent as Eardwulf looked around, slightly shivering. He had not taken his jacket when he left the house. His eyes moved back to the building and for a moment he considered crawling into bed and calling it a day. His hurt body would thank him for it surely. But his feelings wanted something else. It pushed him forward and controlled him as if he was a mere animal. So without questioning himself he turned away again and went on his way to Edward.

* * *

Edward was not home. Eardwulf sat down next to the door and waited. His eyes focused on his fingers that were slowly growing blue. The pain was less overt now and more focalized. It sat in his arms and legs and surprisingly his back, even though Eardwulf could not remember Aethelred having hit him there. At least his punches to the face had been weak enough to only leave a bleeding lip. It could be worse, he noted, even though it seemed impossible to sit in a manner that didn’t hurt.

Time passed in an irregular kind of fashion, it seemed that not much had passed at all and it still felt like hours. He grew cold and restless, but was too tired to move. Then finally he could hear Edward’s voice and saw him approach. Involuntarily a smile appeared on his face and even though he tried, he couldn’t make it go away.

Edward looked shocked as soon as he saw him, as did the girl next to him, tall, blonde and aristocratic, Aelflaed, Eardwulf remembered–the girl Edward’s mother was trying to set him up with. Her eyes moved now confused from Eardwulf to Edward, but Edward was too stunned to react properly.

At least his expression did not reveal much. Like all good nobility, Edward had already perfected the cold aristocratic scowl. For a moment Eardwulf wasn’t even sure if Edward would acknowledge him at all, but then he turned to Aelflaed.

“It seems like this ends here,” he said in a polite tone. Aelflaed furrowed her brows looking back to Eardwulf. “I’ll explain later,” Edward continued, still in the same polite manner. If Eardwulf had not been in that much pain, he would have snorted.

“Alright,” Aelflaed calmly stated and forced herself to smile. She stepped closer and pressed a kiss against Edward’s lip which he reciprocated.

He waited until Aelflaed had left before turning to Eardwulf. His expression was still unreadable. Generations of lords judging their subjects had perfected this stare. Eardwulf almost felt the urge to apologize to his lordship. Instead he leaned onto Edward and let himself be half carried up into Edward’s apartment.

Edward immediately carried him into his bedroom. The stiffness of the old wallpaper greeted him, as did the painting of Saint Sebastian, it wasn’t like the shitty kitchen and the smell of brownies or sherry, but it felt close enough.

Edward pressed him onto the bed and kneeled down to inspect his face. Gently he moved Eardwulf’s head around, but it still hurt regardless. Eardwulf hissed. Immediately Edward let go. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eardwulf wanted to reply that he shouldn’t be such a pussy, but his eyes had focused on Edward’s hair. It had now grown past his shoulders and shone in the light. Without thinking much, he reached out his hand and grabbed it. It felt soft underneath his fingertips. Beautiful, Eardwulf thought, possibly the first true coherent thought since he had come here. It didn’t stop there, he looked at Edward’s face, his long arched nose and soft features. Edward was so handsome. Somehow the thought moved him close to tears and only because of his life long training he managed to keep them away.

Edward gently took his hands in his. They were soft and warm and beautiful. Eardwulf suddenly had the urge to move his slightly dirty, used hands away, but Edward smiled and patted them. Then he got up and left. Luckily Eardwulf was too damaged to get up and grab him that would have been truly pathetic.

“You need a cooling pad,” Edward stated, “multiple cooling pads, if I am honest.” He turned back to Eardwulf and looked at him for a long time. “Was it Aethelred?” He finally asked.

Eardwulf didn’t answer, which probably was answer enough. Edward sighed.

“Don’t move,” and with that he was gone. Eardwulf watched the closed door for a while before slowly getting rid of his shoes and lying down on the bed. Every movement felt aggravating. When he leaned down his stomach hurt and his chest ached. He tried to make himself comfortable by lying on his side. When he lay very still it was manageable. Silent he looked at the wall.

From this position he was unable to see the saint, but he still felt his presence. The white loin cloth seemed to be burned into his mind. Usually even the memory of the painting caused him to chuckle in some kind of way, but for the first time he could not find it amusing. He thought of the arrows piercing Saint Sebastian’s body and the pain emanating from his own body. He got it now why Saint Sebastian had let these men bind him to a tree and shoot arrows at him. It made perfect sense to him, sometimes you had simply had to take what life was giving you. And how had it ended? Saint Sebastian had survived the arrows, but had been bludgeoned to death. Eardwulf could understand that as well, why ever learn your lesson when you had convictions?

Not that Eardwulf had convictions really. There wasn’t an actual proper comparison to make, Edward would have probably been able to give him a 20 page essay as to why with detailed annotations. Not that Eardwulf needed it: Saint Sebastian had endured the pain because of his noble beliefs and Eardwulf had endured it for shitty reasons. Yes, perhaps that’s what he was, he thought, as he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep, Eardwulf, _Saint Of Shitty Reasons_.

**Author's Note:**

> I considered giving eardwulf an epiphany, but hey. it didn’t happen in canon, so why would it happen in a modern au. if anyone is interested [this is the painting in question](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Datei:Sebastian-rubens.jpg). it is not as sexy as [this painting](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Sebastian#/media/File:Sodoma_003.jpg) of saint sebastian though (which also looks sort of more like edward).
> 
> honestly this was at points probably very long and incoherent, so if you read it until the end. thank you. if you have any comments.... about certain things that happen here or if i have overlooked a warning please shoot me a message.


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